look grown-up. But how do YOU like this outfit?”
“Come on Angie, you know I like your legs. You must be teasing me.
The more I see of your legs, the more I like your skirt.” She blushed
again, but looked pleased.
As we drove along, the kids were even more bratty than usual, throwing
paper at each other and raising an intolerable racket. But I could
hardly tear my eyes away from the mirror. In addition to the normal
disruption caused by boys throwing paper airplanes and teasing the
girls, a ninth-grade girl on the aisle about halfway back absorbed
my attention for a while, as she twisted and spread her legs to chat
with her friend in the seat behind. But she was too far away for me
to see more than a stripe of white between her legs. So I turned my
attention back to Angie. It took very little movement for Angie to
show me her underpants again, under her tiny skirt. This time,
however, she caught my gaze in the mirror.
When we next stopped to let off some kids, she bent over to whisper
in my ear. “How long have you been watching in the mirror?”
I glanced again down her blouse to see her protruding nipples, causing
her to gasp, blush and clutch at her neckline. Then, I had a brilliant
idea. Standing and turning toward the back of the bus, I made an
announcement. “Since leaving school I have been watching everyone’s
misconduct. Now I am going to appoint a bus monitor … ANGIE!”
Turning to Angie, I said, “I hope your mother won’t mind you riding the
whole route with me for what’s left of the year.”
“I’m sure she won’t,” grinned Angie, apparently forgetting my stolen
peeks. “She says I spend too much time in front of the TV anyway.”
Angie boarded the bus the next day with her mother’s permission to ride
the full route. This doubled my pleasure for her skirt was another
short one, but not (I noted with disapointment) a real mini. She took
her new job seriously, walking halfway to the back of the bus to untangle
two seventh-grade boys who were wrestling. As the bus emptied, however,
my little bus monitor had less to do and I could see Angie was getting
restless. She stared out the window, tossing and turning in her seat.
She clasped her book bag between her knees, blocking my view of her
crotch. I kept looking up, in hopes of seeing something sexy, but the
bus soon cleared out so only Angie and a couple of boys were left.
As I glanced back at Angie, I realized she had apparently forgotten
she wasn’t alone, and was rubbing her book bag up and down between
her legs. I saw her skirt begin to bunch up in her lap and caught
a glimpse of her underpants pressed against the rough canvas fabric.
I thought it must have been my imagination, but I thought I noticed
a slight darkening of her panties, as though moistened by her little
…End of the part3. To be continued..